


Blind Interrogation

by Du_Hjarta_Skulblaka



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blackrom, Detective AU, F/F, TZ is a detective tracking mob boss vriska
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Du_Hjarta_Skulblaka/pseuds/Du_Hjarta_Skulblaka
Summary: Detective Pyrope has finally tracked down Vriska "8 8all" Serket, alone and unarmed, but her needling pushs her over the edge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is my first tine trying to write...well, smut. Comments and criticism are appreciated!

It had been a long, hard night, but it all led to this. Vriska “8 8all” Serket, alone and unarmed with a revolver pointed at her black heart. Detective Pyrope had spent her entire career working towards this moment. God, how she couldn’t wait to wipe that smug grin off her lips as she threw her into in a jail cell.

“Hands in the air, Serket,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “no funny business or you’ll be ending the night in a morgue.”

“Really TZ? _Thaaaaaaaats_ your grand victory line? Honestly, I thought you had more style.”

She ground her teeth a little harder. Her silver tongue infuriated her, always so certain she was going to get out. Not this time. She reached into her coat, her gun steady on Serket as she pulled out a set of cuffs. Surprisingly Serket did indeed raise her hands, along with an eyebrow.

“Damn Pyrope. Never thought you were into that, maybe tonight’ll be fun after all.”

It took all of the detective’s self restraint not to smack her for that quip, but she was smart enough not to let the criminal get her hands anywhere near the gun. Soon enough she would be able to make all the dirty remarks she wanted and it wouldn’t mean a damn thing.

She closed the distance between them, jammed the barrel just a little harder than necessary into her Serket’s chest while she fastened the cuffs around a pipe on the wall behind her. She wouldn’t be able to move so much as an inch before the backup made it down here to take her out.

She allowed herself a grin that ran wider than the imprisoned mobster’s. “Keep talking, Vriska. I’m sure the wardens in max are gonna love that mouth of yours.”

To Serket’s credit, her little smile still hadn’t faltered. Although, it was looking a little...tighter than before. Fangs pressing into cerulean lips. “Aww, you should know by now hun. This mouth’s aaaaaaaall for you.”

Something in the tone of her voice made her pause. She was all too accustomed to the casual flirting but they had never stood this close before. True, her eyes may be unable see, but standing almost flush against her body she could hear the shallow breath, rapid heartbeat, smell the tang of nervous sweat, and taste the blueberry blush of flushed cheeks. Holy shit. She really was getting off on this, wasn’t she? Her own lips parted, tongue darting out to cool suddenly dry skin.

“What’s the matter Pyrope? You ain’t getting yourself in a Tizzy are you-”

Her voice cut out as Terezi surged forwards and stole her lips, just to shut her up. That goddamn nickname, who the fuck did she think she was? She was a criminal, she was scum. Terezi was the one in control here. She grabbed her head by the horns and forced her tongue between those pretty blue lips just to make her point. Because that’s what this was about, right?

Vriska certainly didn’t seem reluctant. The kiss was all teeth but she seemed careful to keep the sharp tips of her fangs clear of the detective. Terezi showed her no such consideration. Her teeth sunk into soft skin and drew delicious gasps, as well as drops of her bubblegum blood.

Her hands slid down the length of her horns, burying in hair to press at their sensitive bases. Their bodies were more than touching now, pressed tight together to feel each other's warmth through harsh fabric. A small voice of reason told her she shouldn’t be doing this- she should be calling for backup, grabbing the gun where it lay discarded on the floor and never letting it shift from the spider before her. But she was caught in her web now, sampling her intoxicating taste, and if the way Serket was rubbing her body against her was anything to go by, she wasn’t exactly complaining.

Screw it. Serket was going to jail either way. Why not enjoy herself a little first. God knows she had earned it. She let her hands drift, down her shoulders and chest and feeling every inch of hard muscle beneath that tight fitting suit. Before she knew what she was doing she was tearing it open, grunting in satisfaction as fabric ripped and buttons popped. It was tailored, expensive. Vriska would be bitter at its loss, were she not about to trade it for prison scrubs anyway.

Her fingers at last found skin, soft and burning hot, webbed with scars. She added to them by scratching at her sides, drinking in the sharp breathy moans that followed. Wanting more she reached up, slipped her hands under a blue silk bra and roughly grasped breasts just as smooth. She had wondered for so long what they felt like, never consciously acknowledging it until now with the answer before her; beautifully soft and warm, contrasted by hard nipples grazing her palms. She took one between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed, delighting in the throaty cry she got in response.

Serket was putty in her fingers at this point, pressed back against the wall and trying in vain to capture a thigh between her own, anything to relieve the building pressure. Not a bad idea, the detective thought to herself, but she’d be damned if she let her get any joy without joining in.

She tore herself a way, took half a step back and licked a drop of bright blue blood from her own swollen lips. For a moment she lamented her lack of sight, for the vision of Vriska Serket, chained and shirtless and begging would surely have been sweeter than anything her imagination could offer.

“Don’t stop now,” Vriska whispered, hoarse and heavy with need, “Things were just getting interesting…”

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet.” She replied, backing up a little more, but never turning away. She felt behind her for the doorway she had entered through, pulled the door shut and slid the latch. Not that she was expecting any company yet, but it wouldn’t do for the city’s leading detective to be caught with her pants down. Literally, as the case may be…

Satisfied there would be no interruption, she returned to Vriska. She pressed close once more, not quite as tightly as before, and let her hands explore Vriska’s thighs. She was biting her lips again, she could tell. Trying not to give her the satisfaction of hearing her moan. She was unsuccessful. The second a hand wandered between her thighs, she couldn’t hold back a gasp of pleasure. Terezi grinned, reveling in the teasing. She continued to stroke, never quite firmly enough to satisfy the heat she felt. She was burning too, desperate for friction, anything, but she was having far too much fun reducing her prisoner to a puddle.

Pyrope couldn’t take it anymore though. She removed her hand, biting back another smile at the pained noise that evoked. She reached up and gave Vriska’s cheek a sharp pat just to make sure she was watching, then reached down to unfasten her belt. In seconds her trousers and pants were caught around her ankles, the cool air sending pleasant tingles through her exposed regions. She knew Vriska was staring, and she loved every second of it.

“Can’t have my suit getting stained, see,” she hissed, “But yours? Yours I care less about.”

She grabbed Vriska’s hips, the mobster obligingly moving her leg to sit between Terezi’s thighs. She groaned at the sudden warmth and pressure, immediately pushing back and rubbing against it. Vaguely, she was aware of Vriska grinding against her as well but took satisfaction in the knowledge that she had at least one layer of fabric impeding her.

Terezi gasped and grabbed on to her shoulder for support as she continued rubbing herself back and forth, Vriska’s leg becoming more and more soaked in her arousal. Now that was going to he an interesting stain to explain, bit that was a problem for future her. Right now all she could think of was the pressure building up inside her with each thrust, each groan from her partner bringing her closer and closer until-

Her climax hit. Her body went rigid. She clutched hard enough to bruise, felt Vriska make a last few short, desperate jerks before she too froze, letting out a deep moan. She clung on for a few moments, gasping for breath. She couldn’t remember the last time she has felt something so...intense. It seemed to white out all her senses, leaving her truly and utterly blind.

Finally recovering enough to stand on her own, she pulled away, fumbled with her pants. It started to set in how truly ridiculously stupid this was. How in the fuck was she going to explain a torn suit and teal stains to the cops? Fuck. She would have to try and patch Serket up before they got here. She groaned to herself, snatching her gun from the floor. She turned to unlock the door while reaching for her radio,berating herself the entire time.

“Officer Zahhak? Yeah, it’s Pyrope. I need a team at the warehouse district, i’ve got-” She turned. She was still having trouble “seeing” but...no. No she couldn’t be. She stormed over to the pipe, now with nothing but a pair of handcuffs and a torn jacket hanging from it.

“Son of a bitch.”


End file.
